Why Do I Keep Dating the Same Person in a Different Outfit?

Jan 26

You finally end it. Different name, different face, maybe even a different astrological sign this time. You promise yourself: never again. And then—some months (or weeks) later—you find yourself in what feels eerily like the same relationship. Same emotional choreography. Same disappointments. Same moment where you think, Wow, I really did not see this coming, even though… you kind of did.

If this sounds familiar, you’re not broken, masochistic, or doomed to a lifetime of emotionally unavailable people. From a Kleinian psychoanalytic perspective, you might be doing something much more human—and much more hopeful—than you realize.

You may be trying to repair an internal relationship that never quite settled.

The Relationship You’re Actually In

In the Kleinian tradition, an internal object isn’t a thing and it isn’t a diagnosis. It’s an internalized relationship—a living emotional memory of how love, frustration, dependence, and loss were first experienced with important early figures.

These internal objects aren’t stored as neat stories. They’re stored as feelings, expectations, bodily states, and unconscious assumptions about what closeness will cost you or give you back.

So if an early relationship felt unpredictable, emotionally thin, overwhelming, or fragile, that experience often becomes an internal template. Not consciously remembered, but quietly active.

Over time, that internal relationship may feel unfinished—like something went wrong, broke down, or never fully came together. And the psyche, being remarkably loyal, keeps returning to situations that resemble it.

This is where reparation comes in.

Reparation isn’t about fixing a person. It’s an unconscious hope that this time, within a familiar emotional setup, the ending might finally change:

This time, I’ll be enough.
This time, they’ll respond differently.
This time, the relationship will hold.

From the inside, this doesn’t feel pathological. It feels meaningful. Urgent. Charged with hope. Which is why the pull can be so strong—and why you may find yourself replaying the same relational script, even when you genuinely want something different.

That’s how people end up in the same relationship at 11:47 p.m., just with a new cast of characters.

Why It Feels So Compelling (and So Familiar)

These relationships don’t just repeat emotionally—they repeat internally.

You might notice:

A strong pull toward partners who need fixing, rescuing, or managing
A sense that your love could finally make this person whole
Intense anxiety about being abandoned—or intense irritation about being needed
Feeling deeply invested very quickly, like the stakes are oddly high

That intensity often comes from the unconscious fantasy that this relationship isn’t just about now. It’s about repairing something much older.

Which explains why leaving can feel devastating, even when the relationship wasn’t especially good.

Enter: Transference (Yes, Even When You Know Better)

This is where therapy becomes especially powerful.

In the therapeutic relationship, those same internal object dynamics tend to show up again—this time in the transference. You might experience your therapist as:

Someone you fear disappointing
Someone you worry will lose interest
Someone you test, idealize, or feel angry with

And here’s the important part: this isn’t a mistake. It’s the work.

Rather than acting out the pattern in another romantic relationship, therapy creates a space where it can be noticed, felt, named, and slowly understood—without the same consequences.

Over time, something shifts. The internal object softens. The need for repetition eases. The urgency to “fix it this time” loosens its grip.

What Changes When the Pattern Changes

When the unconscious drive toward repair becomes conscious, people often notice:

Less attraction to the same emotionally familiar partners
More tolerance for relationships that feel calmer (and initially, oddly boring)
A growing ability to separate past from present
A sense that love doesn’t have to hurt to feel real

That "boring" feeling deserves its own moment.

Healthier relationships often lack the intensity that comes with unconscious repair attempts. There’s less emotional volatility, fewer spikes of anxiety or urgency, and less of that charged sense that everything is on the line. For many people, this can feel flat or underwhelming at first—not because something is missing, but because something familiar is no longer being activated.

In other words, boring may simply mean that an old internal drama isn’t running the relationship anymore. And it can take time for steadiness to start feeling meaningful rather than dull.

Not because you’ve forced yourself to “choose better,” but because the old emotional job is no longer running the show.

A Kinder Way to Understand the Pattern

So if you keep finding yourself in the same relationship story, consider this reframe:

You weren’t repeating a mistake.
You were trying to heal something.

Therapy doesn’t rush that impulse or shame it—it helps you understand it, mourn what couldn’t be repaired back then, and slowly make room for something new now.

And eventually, you may look across the table from a partner who feels unfamiliar in the best possible way—and realize you’re no longer trying to fix the past.

You’re finally living in the present.

References

Klein, M. (1940). Mourning and Its Relation to Manic-Depressive States.
Segal, H. (1964). Introduction to the Work of Melanie Klein.
Steiner, J. (1993). Psychic Retreats.

Morgan Lloyd